Winter 1
Licht woke from sleep with his arm draped over his forehead, staring quietly at the ceiling. Everything felt like a dream.
He slowly sat up, and through the window, he saw the people of the convent greeting the morning as usual. Licht checked the pocket watch on the bedside table. 8:50. It was the short free time after breakfast. Soon, everyone would head to the chapel for morning prayer.
But the atmosphere was different from usual. Smiles had vanished from the nuns' and children's faces. And that wasn't all. The entire convent was shrouded in a somber silence.
"......"
It had been a full week since the girl left. The fact that Licht had killed five Knight Secreta was a secret known only to her and the abbess.
The mangled corpses of those men would have already turned to a handful of dust. But they couldn't hide it forever.
The abbess had stamped her seal on an urgent letter and sent it off. The reply came swiftly. Almost immediately, knights from the Papal Court arrived.
They asked nothing. Not about what had happened to the five Knight Secreta who had come before. Not about any incidents here. Their only purpose was to take her—the Holy Kingdom's sole saintess and the official proxy of Issteria.
Their attitude was impeccably polite. The girl didn't resist. She accepted with surprising docility, almost making one wonder if it was right.
Instead, it was the convent's people who opposed it. These were the same folks who had sighed in relief just days ago when the Knight Secreta had left empty-handed. Now, with knights from the Papal Court appearing again and the girl ready to follow willingly, they panicked and tried to stop her.
"Saintess, please don't go!"
"Yeah! We promised to watch the snow festival together this winter!"
Was that year she spent here, leaving the Papal Court of her own will for the first time, truly meaningless?
No. Absolutely not. At least, not in Licht's eyes.
On the day she left, countless people grieved. Children and nuns alike. Even the ever-kind abbess couldn't hide her tears.
Licht watched the scene from his room. Hiding his presence as before, perched on the edge of his bed. He peered silently out the window.
The knights stood rigidly behind the girl, and though the convent's people gathered in sorrow, Licht couldn't join them. He couldn't grieve with them.
For he was a criminal in the Holy Kingdom.
He wanted to go out. But he couldn't.
Even as they mourned, Licht couldn't properly mourn. It felt as if the world outside the window and the one inside were completely severed.
But just before departing, when the girl turned her gaze toward him, it was as if the window frame dividing those worlds shattered entirely.
For a fleeting instant—so brief even the Papal Court's holy knights wouldn't notice. Perhaps a mere illusion, yet that moment felt eternal.
No words were needed. The mere glance sufficed. It held everything.
Can I ever forget those eyes looking at me then?
"......"
Licht rose from the bed. In one corner of the room hung the black clothes and cloak he'd worn before coming here.
Despite the fierce battle, they were spotless. The girl had mended and washed them for him before leaving.
With slow movements, Licht donned them one by one. The familiar touch against his skin. But something felt different now. An emotion hard to put into words.
On the bedside table sat the golden holy sword, as always, leaning at an angle. Not one, but two—crossed like a pair, one resting atop the other. Its sheath was pure white, matching the blade.
Licht gazed at the two swords for a moment before securing them to his waist, one by one. First the Ascension Sword. Then the Execution Sword, angled slightly above it.
He didn't forget the pocket watch on the table, hanging it around his neck. And one more thing: the white rosary the girl had given him.
Stepping outside, the weather was already sweltering despite the morning hour. Lately, Licht could feel the nights growing shorter and days longer in his bones. Hot air stabbed deep into his lungs.
Summer.
The courtyard was empty. In the short time he'd changed and gathered his thoughts, everyone had apparently headed to the chapel for morning prayer.
Licht glanced around a few times before heading to the backyard with familiar steps. The spot where he always practiced the sword. Where he'd first met the three eldest children of the convent.
He drew his sword. With a clear ring, the golden blade emerged.
Gripping the Ascension Sword, Licht suddenly swung it. He couldn't use mana, but his body was fine—only slightly slower, no issue with the forms.
Swing the sword, step forward, pivot and slash diagonally upward.
'Ah.'
Powerless. The descending blade, the traced forms.
Since that day, he'd thought endlessly. Ever since sending you away.
You said it couldn't be brushed off easily, with five Knight Secreta dead. Someone had to cover it up. So you chose to walk into the Papal Court of your own accord.
For whose sake? The convent's people? Or for me?
I kept dreaming. Not the usual battlefield nightmares, but dreams of helplessly watching you leave—for the first time.
What should I have done then? Reached out a hand? Stepped forward boldly instead of hiding in my room, stopping you from going to the Papal Court?
Deep down, I hoped for that until the end. That glance toward me was all for that.
But I couldn't. I ran. Hid in my room and let you go.
Because I was weak. Because I lacked the confidence to make the Holy Kingdom my enemy.
The form shifted. The trajectory curved. The sword tip wavered.
With the final form, the Ascension Sword dropped low. Then a blade of pure white rose above it—the Execution Sword, drawn in reverse grip.
As his left hand spun once, the atmosphere changed. Crossing twin blades, golden sword-light slicing the air alongside a streak of white. A pale yellow aura gleamed over them.
The rosary in his bosom emerged at his will. The swords accelerated. Swing the Ascension Sword in his right hand, then immediately thrust the Execution Sword in his left.
'Faster.'
I'm a coward.
'Faster still.'
Ran away with pathetic excuses.
'Higher.'
A strength that yields in no situation.
—Love too grand for me. The realm of the 9th Circle.
"Brother."
A voice called. The sword dance halted. Licht, lost in trance with his twin blades, lowered both swords.
Catching his breath briefly, he turned to see three children watching him—though he hadn't noticed their arrival. Two boys and one girl.
"Sword practice again today?"
The girl in the middle asked. It was Emma, the red-haired girl who stood out.
Licht sheathed the two swords in his hands one after another. The metallic chink made the children's eyes sparkle with wonder, as always, despite seeing it so often.
"What about prayer?"
"It's over."
"It's been a while. When did you get here?"
Licht checked the pocket watch in his bosom. Time showed it was nearly 10 o'clock.
"You're practicing so intensely. Forgetting the time like that. What was that called again...?"
"Trance?"
"Yeah, that! You studied hard lately to skip remedial classes."
"Not quite that much..."
"Anyway... you looked like some hidden master!"
Emma gestured dramatically. The burly Ben chimed in between her words. But Licht's attention wasn't on them.
It was on the boy slouched behind them, lacking his usual energy. He'd been like that since the girl left.
"Hey."
"Huh?"
Emma, mid-mumble, turned wide-eyed at Willie's words from behind.
"What's wrong?"
"About the Saintess."
Willie lifted his bowed head.
"Did she really want to go to the Papal Court?"
The other two fell silent.
"You think so too, brother? That the Saintess really wanted to go?"
Licht couldn't answer either. These three children didn't know. Nor did the other children or nuns.
The girl left because all five Knight Secreta from the Papal Court were dead. And Licht had killed those holy knights.
To cover it up, she left the convent. Of everyone here, only the abbess knew the full truth besides Licht.
"Remember what I said before?"
As Licht stayed silent, Willie continued hesitantly.
"I asked you to teach me the sword."
"Yeah. My dream is to become a holy knight. And you're a strong swordsman."
He revealed a small wooden sword hidden behind his back.
"My dream hasn't changed. I'll become a Papal Court holy knight, and ultimately, the Saintess's guard knight."
"......"
"But... I'm short on time. I'm still young. The Saintess is already gone, and I don't know how long until I see her again. I can't be sure."
The entry exam for Papal Court holy knights started at age 15 minimum. Willie was only 12. Even the shortest path was three years—assuming he passed on turning 15.
Then, becoming an elite holy knight and selected as the Saintess's guard, Anima? It would take far longer. Even heaven-sent sword talent wouldn't suffice. Time was needed. A very long time.
And by then, the girl would probably...
"Licht brother."
Willie asked again.
"What will you do now?"
His body had fully recovered.
"You're an incredibly strong swordsman. Why keep training?"
Words the girl had said once before.
"The Saintess..."
Willie trailed off. Licht drew his sword again.
Chaaeng! The golden blade gleamed.
The three children watched silently. Licht held the sword vertical and brought his remaining left hand to the flat of the blade.
"...It won't be long."
Until he fully recovered his circles. And beyond the 5th Circle, weaving six rings.
The circles spun. The first of the five frozen rings slowly unraveled.
With a humming vibration, the air trembled.
"This time, I'll..."
A cluster of white light gathered at his fingertips. The bursting white light slowly but surely enveloped the blade.
"Save you."
Licht declared. Now the Ascension Sword regained its pure white glow, powered by the newly unfurled first ring.
For a while, silence hung in the grove. In the soundless quiet, Licht thought alone.
This time, I'll save you. Just as you saved me.
***
Seasons passed.
As the girl had said, no holy knights from the Papal Court came after that day. Without the saintess, Hyeris Convent was just another remote forest convent like any other.
The convent, steeped in quiet grief for a time, gradually regained its vitality as days flowed on. The sullen children began smiling again, and the nuns taught and went about their duties as usual.
The abbess was no different. The only one who couldn't return was Licht.
The secluded forest convent was perfect for recuperation, and in repeating the same daily routine while swinging his sword, Licht sometimes lost track of time and the date.
But one thing he remembered clearly: January 1st. The Day of Creation, when believers across the continent gathered at Light Square.
The wind now carried the scent of autumn. Licht paid it no mind. He swung his sword as always.
His lodging had changed long ago. After activating three rings, he'd moved to a small cabin a bit away from the convent.
Aside from occasional visits from the three mischievous children, he saw almost no one. He focused solely on the sword.
He didn't neglect practicing magic while unraveling his circles either.
Thus summer passed, then autumn.
When winter arrived, white breath formed at his mouth. His clothes were far thicker than months ago.
Licht stepped out of the cabin and looked up. The first snow was falling.